Chapter 63


    This ce was seriously going downhill. Not a spark of life in sight.


    Arabe walked back into the office and barely took a seat when Dean, the perpetuallyte assistant,


    barged in.


    “Sorry I’mte, huh? Where’s the boss? Wasn’t he supposed to be here today? Kid, have you seen the


    boss? You need to get up; he should be arriving soon! You can’t sit there!”


    Dean rattled on, then realized the girl in front of him was just watching him with a nonchnt air that


    sent a shiver down his spine.


    “Arabe.


    “Ms. Bet,” Dean rushed forward, scared out of his wits.


    From his stammering exnation, Arabe got the gist.


    A year ago, the Collins family entered the fashion industry, hiring a number of talents, some good at


    Belongs ? to N?velDrama.Org.


    management and others at design.


    They even sent a head honcho, Oscar, to oversee things.


    But as time passed, thepany saw little improvement.


    Disappointed, many of the talents left.


    From initial expectations toplete neglect, the headquarters had grown distant. The overall


    atmosphere in thepany was prettyx.


    Dean had been here for a year, and despite his frustration, hecked the capacity to change things.


    “Call a meeting half an hour from now. I want every department head and member of management


    present.”


    “Yes.” Dean rushed off to send out mass notifications.


    Half an hourter.


    In the meeting room, out of 38 chairs that should have been filled, only nine people showed up.


    “Ms. Bet, the head of finance says her kid’s sick today; she took a leave to take him to the


    hospital.”


    The head of procurement says he’s not feeling well; he’s resting at home.”


    Before Dean can finish, Arabe cut him off: “Tell them if they’re not here tomorrow, they needn’t bother


    Those who came to the meeting thought Arabe was just ying tough.


    “Just because I’m here, it means you folks need to kiss yourzy days goodbye, or you can kiss the


    Everyone looked up at her; little did they know she ran her ownpany with an even tighter ship. Any


    employee who didn’t pull their weight would’ve been fired long ago.


    “Now, who can tell me the current state of thepany, any progress we’ve made, and our future


    ns?” Arabe scanned the room.


    Nobody spoke up.


    “I’ll ask again.” Arabe repeated her question, but the response was the same: no one answered.


    She realized instantly that this was the current state of thepany. No progress, no future ns.


    Just then, a voice piped up.


    “Ms. Bet.”


    “Hmm?”


    “Also, I think our department’s designs are pretty awesome, but for some reason, we just can’t make a


    sale.” Arabe kept silent.